


Pastry Porn

by AsheTarasovich (natalieashe), Boffin1710



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Attraction, Bond is a menace, Flirting, Innuendo, Lust, M/M, Masturbation, Moneypenny is out of control, Pastries, Q is desperate, Self-Control, Sexual Fantasy, everyone is horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 23:34:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12119706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/pseuds/AsheTarasovich, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boffin1710/pseuds/Boffin1710
Summary: Q-branch gets more than it bargained for with a delivery of pastries.  Q gets more attention from Bond than he thinks he can handle.





	Pastry Porn

**Author's Note:**

> In response to this 00Q bunny...
> 
> "...A villain with very bad taste in jokes blows up some kind of bioweapon inside Q-branch exactly the moment Q is working on something extremely important that has to be done that very moment (and the villain wanted to prevent that). The effect of the gas is instant arousal of the worst kind imaginable. The moment it gets obvious what has happened, Q manages to scream orders towards his minions in a way, that reaches them despite the effect of the gas intensely enough to make them run and then he locks Q-branch completely with only himself still inside - highly affected by the gas of course. But he fights it ...successfully. He redirects all computers of Q-branch to his screens and goes back to work..."

Everyone was slowly drifting into Q Branch in various moods ranging from those very annoying "morning people" to those barely functioning. Q was surprised any of them were functioning after the last week they had survived. 

Too many missions running at the same time that didn't allow for many of his team to see the light of day, let alone their own beds. So when one of the lobby security guards appeared with multiple white boxes adorned with the logo from Gail's Artisan Bakery, the thought never occurred to him that they could be anything out of the ordinary. Especially when he and R were told they were a 'thank you' for a job well done from the higher ups. 

It wasn't until someone opened the third box down in the stack that the real mission of the delivery hit them full force... and hit them it did, all of them. 

One of the senior techs backed Q's new data analyst against his desk running sticky glaze covered fingers over the younger man's parted lips. The analyst's blue eyes were wide and fixed on the tech's mouth, even as his own tongue darted out to lap at the sweetness.

Q turned around to find a couple, who had tried to keep their budding relationship secret, locked in a passionate clinch. The girl's skirt was pushed high on her hips so she could straddle her lover while his face was buried somewhere in the depths of her cleavage.

"What the hell do you...?" 

The rest of his question dissolved into a low moan as someone trailed a talon down his spine. He felt it dance over every bump, sending shivers through his entire body and a spike of hot desire straight to his groin.

"What are you...? What...? I mean, we don't... I can't... oh fuck!"

The glossy dark red tips of female fingers cupped his sudden erection and squeezed gently.

"And you had me fooled that you were gay, Quartermaster," she purred, rubbing against him like an overgrown cat.

“Moneypenny…” he stammered. “I don’t know what you think… wrong impression…” he tried to protest but his body was desperately wanting to push into her hand. Her warm breath against his ear was…

At that very moment, the alarm system on the in house filtration began to blare. Installed after the Skyfall Incident, it was to monitor air quality throughout MI6 to prevent another internal gas leak to be used against them. With the obnoxious drone of the alarms, his logical thought processes finally managed to reboot. 

He glanced over at flushed R who stood by the boxes of pastries staring at him, pupils blown wide in horror and need. 

“Get everyone out now!” he yelled at her. “Now! Lock it down then.” He urged her before managing to displace Moneypenny’s hand from his crotch as he pulled her around to face him. 

“Alarm Moneypenny! Get everyone out.” He managed to blurt out at her as she trapped him against his workstation. 

“But Q…”

He grabbed her face with both hands stopping her as she dove in to press what he was convinced was going to be a porn worthy kiss.

“Listen to me Moneypenny. Everyone out of Q Branch first!”

"First..." She nodded and turned to the nearest group of people. "You heard the Quartermaster... let's take this party outside."

She didn't make a dozen steps before grabbing the nearest male and delivering a filthy kiss that the geeky young man was only too happy to accept. His hands slid down to cup her behind and started to inch her skirt higher until Q, shielding the bulge in his trousers from a dozen grabby hands, hissed loudly "Put him down, Moneypenny, or just... take him with you, for god's sake. Just sashay on out of here and your drooling fan club will follow."

She blew him a kiss over her shoulder and dragged the young tech towards the exit, somehow managing to snag her arm around another, much older gent who normally spent the day in silence. He was giggling now and crowing that she was young enough to be his daughter, and he would show her a thing or two.

"Show her whatever you like, just do it outside of my department!" Q bellowed, narrowly missing a collision with a small herd of randy minions being shepherded by R.

"Q... I don't normally use the f-word but... What the fuck is going on in here?" She snatched her hand away from his face where it seemed to have cupped his cheek tenderly. "I want to... do stuff. Oh my god this is so embarrassing. I need... want... Anyone! Everyone!"

Q tried to focus on his breathing and ignore the lust that burned through him for his second in command. He squeezed his cock in a tight grip, hoping the discomfort might help him usher the rest of the staff out before he lost all control, tore down his trousers and brought himself off. Just because others were staggering through the doors in various states of undress, it wouldn't do for the Quartermaster to give in to his lewd desires.

It all would have been fine had the star of Q's morning shower wank not walked into the outer observation room just as the doors responded to his lockdown command.

Tanner was suddenly in his ear babbling words about something that Q couldn’t even concentrate on at the moment. 

“Get everyone to medical Tanner! No one comes in here.” Q managed to gasp out when all he really wanted to say was ‘Send 007 in here immediately. I have a mission for him’.

“Q? Are you with me?” Tanner’s voice was calm and soothing in his ear. And he so desperately wanted that voice to whisper to him. Oh god what was he thinking. Calm. Focus. Quartermaster. Control the situation. 

“Here Tanner.” Q leaned heavily against his workstation, hands gripping the edges as his instincts were screaming at him to just go ahead and wank. “oh god…”

“Q. Medical is on the way.” Tanner offered calmly.

“Don’t let them in here!” Q turned to make sure the outer doors to Q Branch were secure to see Bond standing just on the other side of the glass doorway.  
Standing.   
One hand in his trousers pockets.   
Staring.   
Watching.

“Go away Bond!” Q yelled at him turning on heel, back to his workstation, where he furiously began to type.

Q groaned and leaned into the edge of his desk, stretching the fabric of his trousers tight over his erection. He could feel Bond's eyes boring into the back of his neck, and the resulting flush of embarrassment turned his neck pink.

"Q? What is your status?" Tanner's voice in his ear was like warm chocolate. Seductive and sweet. "We need to evacuate you also."

"No," Q choked out, rocking in his chair, trying to discreetly find some friction. "Not until... not yet. Need to ensure the air filtration is operational."

Taking a deep breath he swung his chair around and staggered to the workstation that would allow him to access the air system. Unfortunately it meant he was standing side-on to Bond's window, and the agent had an excellent view of his tented trousers and any unconscious move Q made towards his cock. 

Bond himself hadn't moved at all. Beyond him the stragglers from Q branch fondled and groped one another in twos, threes or more. They pawed at him but he ignored them all, laser focus on the Quartermaster with a slight smirk. 

A soft click and then a low chuckle in his ear made Q freeze, hands hovering over the keyboard. "If this is team building in Q-branch, I want in," Bond smirked.

Q closed his eyes. Exhaled deeply. Head slumped. He could feel the heat of Bond’s body next to his. Smell Bond’s musky cologne. Feel the touch of his hand on the small of his back.

“I really hate you right now Bond. Go away.”

“I don’t think you hate me at all Q,” he could hear the smirk on Bond’s face in his voice.

“Bond would you mind telling me what you are doing lingering around Q Branch right now.” Mallory’s voice cut through the tension that was threatening to disperse itself of Q’s clothing this very moment.

“Just making sure my Quartermaster is faring well in this emergency situation, Sir. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to your best and brightest would we?”

“Arrogant arse...” Q stammered.

“Did I hear you comment on my arse, Quartermaster?” Q moaned. Bond’s arse had captivated him on so many occasions as the agent walked out of Q Branch. 

"I forbid you, or anyone other than the medical retrieval team, from entering Q-branch until the system registers an all-clear." Mallory snapped, and Q could hear a mumbled conversation with Tanner in the background. Then Mallory was back in Q's ear. "How long?"

Q glanced across at Bond. The room behind him was almost clear of people now. He was leaning with one forearm braced on the window above his head, the other hand deep in his pocket tracing the line of his half-hard cock. 

Q licked his lips. He wanted to be the other side of the glass, on his knees, unzipping the agent with his teeth. He could taste the tang of precum on his tongue. Knew what Bond would smell like. How his thick fingers would scrape across his scalp and knot in his hair and...

"Too bloody long" he gasped out, cutting the link with Mallory and Tanner. 

Q didn't recall moving, but here he was, inches away from the glass. Inches away from the intense burning gaze of the man who haunted his erotic dreams. Moments away from tearing open his clothing and touching himself for Bond's pleasure. 

Bond smiled, slow and predatory, and Q thought he might explode from want. He could override the lockdown. Drag the man inside and let himself be taken. 

"You have a job to do Quartermaster" Bond chuckled over the earwig. "I'll be watching closely."

"I need... I need..." Q squeaked out as his hand wrapped around his cock inside his pocket. His nostrils flared. His eyes dilated. "I need...". He quickly pulled his hand out of his pocket pressing both of them against the glass wall above his head, his head bowed between his shoulders. 

A tap on his ear activated his comms again. Focus. "Tanner, I need all the CCTV footage you can give me on who delivered these boxes and everything anyone can give me on the location of Gail's Artisan Bakery that these pastries came from." 

Q raised his head and stared Bond directly in the eye. His tongue darted out, licking his lips and he panted heavily. "Bond..." Q. stammered. 

"Yes Quartermaster?" Bond's steel blue eyes never left Q's face. Even with reinforced glass between then, Q wanted nothing more than to rut against it envisioning the blonde haired agent taking him. 

"Oh god..." Q huffed thankful that the remainder of Q Branch was successfully locked on the other side of the door now. He reluctantly turned his back on Bond, slowly making his way to his workstation. 

"Tanner... I want the head of the guard who didn't check these boxes thoroughly.”

"Already on it, Q, though it would be far quicker if I had one of your lot to call on" Tanner huffed. "How are you holding up?"

"Harder than you know," but Q couldn't even smile at his own joke before Bond's dark chuckle sent a shudder through him.

"That's the spirit, Quartermaster. Keep it up. Looking a little flushed. Are you sure you don't need an extra hand in there?"

Q growled and threw a glare in Bond's direction. The agent had loosened his tie so it hung like a silken restraint that would look just beautiful around Q’s wrists. He now stood a pace back from the window with his mobile in hand. Q watched his mouth move and his imagination conjured passionate words whispered against his skin as they writhed naked and slick with sweat. 

"No. For mercies sake, fuck off Bond!"

Tanner's rather anxious tone snapped Q from Bond's fantasy fingers pressing into him, opening him up . "M would appreciate an update on how long this mood lasts. Having a tad of trouble containing the threat."

In the background Q could make out voices. Mallory's bark and the brisk no nonsense medics, and over it all Moneypenny, promising to be a very very bad girl for her superior.

“And how the fuck am I supposed to know that Tanner?” Q snapped at him. He headed towards the closest brick wall pressing his entire body against it’s cool exterior. His skin was hot and way too tight. All he wanted to do was strip his clothing off. 

“No equipment in here to deal with that issue, Tanner. And I don’t think you really want me wandering the corridors to R&D. Oh. My. Fucking. God.”

“We’re making arrangements Q.” Tanner commented over the din in the background almost drowning out his words.

Q spun around leaning heavily against the wall. Both hands drifted to his hair, pushing it back away from his face. When he opened his eyes, Bond was still standing close to the outer windows, phone in hand, but his eyes were riveted on the Quartermaster.

“Go away Bond.” He snarled at him but his feet carried him back over towards the windows. One hand brushed over his face. Trailed slowly down his throat. Stopped at the dip in his neck. Then, slowly headed towards the top buttons of his shirt.

Q thought he heard Bond speak to Trevelyan briefly on his mobile before turning his attention back towards him. “Oh I’m not going anywhere Q. It’s not often anyone gets to see something actually push the Quartermaster over the edge even it if it is just a tad.“ 

"I am perfectly in control of this situation" Q ground out between gritted teeth. He tugged his shirt free of his trousers, flapping it. "Too hot..."

"Of course you are." Bond eyed the exposed pale white skin of Q's stomach and leaned closer to the glass. "Getting a tad warm in there?"

"It's fine!"

A cold drink would be good. something to take his mind off the rising temperature thanks to the limited air circulation and his escalating lust. There would be some water in the...

"Fridge! That might work! almost airtight."

While he was still able to hold onto the coherent thought, Q grabbed up the pile of boxes. The staff fridge was emptied of its contents and all of the pastries dumped inside. Slamming the door, Q fell to his knees keening with overwhelming need.

"Bond..."

A huge shudder ran through him as he breathed heavily. Slowly he managed to make it back to his feet, straighten his glasses and his clothing, as he made his way to his workstation all too aware of those blue eyes watching him from beyond the glass.

“Items secured as much as they can be in here, Tanner.” At his workstation he pulled up the video feed of the bakery delivery from early in the morn as he grabbed up his keyboard, pacing back and forth with it in hand as the video played.

“Tanner stepped away from the comms for a moment, Quartermaster.” Bond’s smooth voice sounded in his ear. “It’s just you and me for a few moments.”

“Fuck...” Q sighed turning his back to the agent. “You do take great delight in torturing me, don’t you Bond.” Q clung to his keyboard trying desperately to keep his hand occupied. 

"I enjoy watching you work under pressure. It's important to me as an agent to know your limits," Bond gave that strange half-smile again, "And to test them."

Q lost his train of thought, fingers stuttering to a halt on the keyboard, a tiny moan escaping his parted lips. Was this a game to Bond? Of course it bloody was. Exercising his dominance, exploring Q's response to it, all without lifting a finger. It was infuriating and exhilarating at once, and entirely inappropriate. Q moaned a little louder and flushed when he realised the wanton sound had come from him.

Bond smirked, shrugged off his jacket, slid his tie from under his collar, and wound it teasingly around his large hands. He licked his lower lip leaving it shiny and wet. 

Q wanted to bite it, suckle on it. Lick into Bond's mouth and dance with tongues. He wanted Bond's teeth on his collarbone, his nipples, his inner thigh. That wicked mouth around his cock while Bond pinned him with his muscled arms. Q wanted... He needed...

He would not give Bond the satisfaction... 

"I really have no need of you here, Bond. You are not under the influence of the toxin, so you are free to go." His voice sounded odd.

"Oh no, I can't do that. I'm the only one with eyes on you. I promised M I would monitor your physical condition."

"M did not order that," Q snapped, typing frantically once more. His physical condition was painfully obvious, and becoming more urgent since he had handled the pastries. He turned his attention back to the video feed and ignored the agent once more.

Q struggled to focus on the video feed in front of him watching as the delivery man entered the main entrance doors and walked up to security. As he switched the feed to the outer views as the truck appeared in the CCTV view, the urges hit him again full force.   
He gripped his workstation with both hands until his knuckles glowed white. Breathing became rapid and staggered. And before he had realised what he was doing, he had stripped off his cardigan throwing it to the floor.  
“Q?” Bond stepped closer to the outer glass that maintained a wall between them. “Alright?”  
“Yes! No! Go. Away. Bond.” Q stammered his back still to the agent. It was all he could to do not unzip his trousers, then and there, to take himself in hand. Q turned to face Bond leaning heavily back against his workstation, face glowing flushed and heated.  
“Do we need to take this to a private channel, Quartermaster?” Bond smirked at him.  
“Nooo,’ Q practically wailed. “Tanner! I need an update! Now!”  
"What do you want to know, Q?" Tanner hissed, sounding uncharacteristically rattled. "Eve is... Moneypenny is... oh good grief!"

"What?!"

"I had to order security to restrain her. She is a menace. M is apoplectic, demanding answers."

"Well, well, Tanner. You are a brave man. When she regains her sense of propriety she is going to make your life hell." Bond's dark chuckle over the comms caused Tanner to curse. 

"Well aware of that, 007," he snapped. "O'Reilly's team were on instruction to douse the passions in any way possible. The conference room will need decontamination, but the effects are starting to wane i’m told.”

"Q-branch too at this rate." Bond commented. "Alright, Quartermaster?" 

Bond was leaning on the glass again, staring intently at Q and fingering open another button on his shirt. Q glanced down to discover his own shirt half open and his hand roaming over his chest, tweaking at his left nipple. His other hand blatantly caressed the bulge of his cock. 

"Ten minutes on a private channel, Q. That's all it would take," Bond breathed. The glass fogged slightly, his mouth so close to the barrier. 

Q snatched his hands away from his body and forced them flat to the desk. "Bond. Please," aware he was begging now. "Torture. Whatever perverse pleasure you gain from seeing me like this... just please. Fuck. Off!!"

"Quartermaster," Tanner awkwardly interrupted. "O'Reilly's team is informing me that the progress of the influence might be hastened to a conclusion for you by... ummm... giving into the ‘carnal needs’ that are an effect of it. It seems to..." 

"No! You can fuck off also, Tanner," Q snarled at him. "I can deal with this."

"Are you sure, Q?" Bond questioned. His voice smooth, calm, deep, dark, luring...

"Bond! Who authorised you to harass me!" Q's hand stroked unconsciously up his cock. "Oh god..." he pulled his hand away grabbing up his wireless mouse practically crushing it in his hand trying to kept his hands contained. 

Q's thoughts drifted towards his office. Door that locked. Windows that could be blacked out. No security camera observation. He could...

"Q, you might want to consider Medical's suggestion. M wants you on top of this." Tanner's voice pushed through his thoughts. 

"M can fuck off too, Tanner!" 

"Really, Quartermaster? Such frustration," Bond wasn't even trying for subtle. He could sense Q was desperate to give in. So close to losing control. "Because if you want to get on top of the situation, open the door and let me in."

Q clenched his teeth, and his hands. He wanted nothing more than to throw the door open and present himself to the agent. Fuck playing hard to get. Fuck any resistance at all. He wanted Bond's weight pinning him, his legs kicked apart and Bond's cock pistoning in and out of his body like he did in so many of Q's private fantasies.

The thought made Q's cock twitch violently. "Oh god..." he moaned quietly. "I will not give that arrogant idiot the satisfaction of seeing me completely undone by a pastry!"

"Tanner," Q snapped, forcing his focus to his screen where a facial recognition algorithm flicked through a huge catalog of features . "Two possible positive ids on the delivery man. Sending details to you now. You'll need to coordinate some action from up there, I'm somewhat debilitated."

"Understood. We have staff on standby to take over."

"And Tanner... please get Bond out of here before I do something we will all regret."

Tanner hummed, then "Bond, you are relieved by request of the Quartermaster. I'll take it from here."

"Medical has informed M that the influence seems to be on a downward swing with your team Quartermaster," Tanner's voice finally informed him after what seemed like hours upon end. "They have actually let a few go home. Others they are still keeping under observation for a little longer."

"Oh thank god," Q stammered. This meant that eventually there would be some relief to this raging torture. Still trying to run through surveillance footage, but his focus was long gone, along with the tortuous presence of Bond. 

"Air quality in Q Branch shows the area is reaching a clear reading also, Quartermaster. Another half hour and we should be able to release the lockdown." Tanner continued. "M has suggested that we arranged a car to take you to your flat after Medical releases you."

"No medical!"Q moaned. "Just let me out of here! Please Tanner!" Q turned back to his monitors leaning against his workstation. "Now Tanner." He moaned desperately. He skin flushed vividly and burned, so sensitive to touch and need that even the brush of his workstation against him sent a painful shudder through him. 

Q was leaning against the wall barely able to stand straight, when Tanner cautiously opened the door to Q-branch. "You look dreadful," he smiled sympathetically and offered his arm, but Q recoiled.

"Don't. Touch. Me," Q stammered. "I don't know if I can resist..."

Tanner stepped back smartly, hands raised as if to show he was no threat. "Are you sure you're going to be alright? Sending you home alone seems incredibly risky."

"Sending me with someone else would be far worse." Q staggered out of the room and along the corridor away from the Chief of Staff. "Just make sure the driver understands I don't need any help."

As they turned the corner a familiar figure detached from the wall, jacket slung casually over one shoulder, shirt still half open. Bond had acquired sunglasses from somewhere, and his short blond hair was standing on end. 

The slow lazy smile, the blatant look up and down, pulled an embarrassingly needy noise from the Quartermaster. Bond took a step towards him, and Q managed a painful skip sideways, cursing the obvious erection that still strained his trousers. He squared his shoulders, and forced himself to stand upright, though it was far short of his normal elegant poise.

"If you come within six feet of me Bond, I swear to God I will send you out on your next mission with a pea shooter!"

Bond faltered, and Q was surprised to see the agent had listened to him until Tanner cleared his throat. "Um, I thought perhaps you may feel more secure with this." He held out a small taser. "You know... to get you home unmolested." 

Q pointed to the floor between them with a shaky hand. 

"Oh right," Tanner laid the taser on the floor and pushed it towards him with his foot. 

Q picked it up shifting it comfortably in his hand before turning back towards Bond. "Move Bond or I won't hesitate..." In his head though he struggled with tossing the taser aside and shoving Bond against one of the corridor walls, the intense need to just rut against the man becoming more and more demanding. 

However, Bond stepped back with a slight nod, "As you wish Quartermaster." not wanting to take Q on with a taser in hand. 

"Driver is ordered to lock the protective glass between the two compartments of the car, Quartermaster. Directly to your residence and make no contact." Tanner backed off also. "Medical would like you to contact them in the morning... after..." 

"Of course. Thank you Tanner." 

The ride home was torture. Q made himself sit on his hands so he wouldn't unzip, but every bump in the road, even the light rumble of the tyres on the road, sent exquisite vibrations to his cock. By the time he slammed his flat door and locked it with trembling hands, he was sobbing with desperation.

He headed straight for the bedroom, hauling his shirt off over his head when his fingers proved too clumsy to handle the buttons. His trousers fell around his ankles and he shoved his hand inside his pants cupping his balls before he even kicked the garment free.

He moaned at the memory of all Bond's teasing and innuendo. The lustful way the agent had looked at him and he felt unreasonably pissed that the flat was empty of company. "Fuck you, Bond. You couldn't break in tonight?" 

Q crawled up the bed on hands and knees, cock bobbing stiffly. He punched the pillows into a pile and found the bottle of lube he kept stashed under the pillow, drizzling a ridiculous amount over his cock in his eagerness to take himself in hand.

"What would you have done 007 if I'd dropped my trousers in front of that window?" Q murmured remembering the intense blue stare fixed on him through the glass. "Fuck, I could give you a show."

Q threw himself onto the pillows piled on the bed and slowly stroked his balls, wanting to prolong it as long as possible. He knew if he touched his cock now, he wouldn’t last long after the torturous hours he had spent in Q Branch with those wicked blue eyes staring at him and that smooth calculating voice in his ear.  
Bond… god damn him. Utterly confused him but at the moment, he didn’t care All he wanted was some relief and what better way to get there than to envision that muscular tanned frame pressed between his legs.   
Q leaned back against the headboard of the bed, his other hand grasping the rail above him. Breathing heavy he arched into the feel of his hand slowly, purposely making its way towards his cock.   
“James….fuck…. ’ he gasped, breath hitched as his long slender fingers finally wrapped themselves around his cock.   
He maintained a torturously slow glide for the first long pulls, body shaking with each pass of his palm over the head, precum already welling at the slit. "Oh god, James..." he panted, shuddering as his heels dug into the mattress, calves tight.

The hand that coiled around the rail strained, tendons standing out under his pale skin. Bond's voice whispered in his ear, replaying the seductive tone Q had wanted so desperately to respond to.

"...team building... I want in..." Oh fuck, yes! Bond, bending him over a workstation, spreading his arse so he could watch his cock pushing into Q's body... 

Q tightened the pull on his cock, heels drawn up to his arse, feet flat on the bed, so he could fuck harder into his fist.

"...need an extra hand..." Bond's calloused hands pinning him to the desk sending mouse and keyboard flying...

"James! Oh fuck... James! Going to come!" And come he did, with a scream that probably woke the neighbors. Only to find himself still hard, needing. Skin flushed and burning. Desire coiled tight low in his groin. Oh god, it was so going to be a long night and every fantasy in his arsenal would be put into play. 

“James….”

Q let the memory of Bond's lustful gaze linger. So many of his fantasies began with those eyes raking over him, mentally undressing him. The agent lounging like a feral tom cat on the sofa in Q's office, refusing to take Q's half-hearted attempt to dismiss him. Or watching Q in a briefing, wearing a half-smirk the more Q fidgeted under the scrutiny. Or watching him at work, like he had earlier...

"Oh god... fuck me, James. Fuck, harder." His hand swept around his aching balls, drawing tight up his cock. 

His phone pinged and Q swore. Keeping one hand busy he patted the bed until he connected with his phone. One message. Recognised issue number.

“I could be watching you instead of lying here alone.”

Bond knew. the thought hit Q like a jolt of lust. Bond knew that Q fantasised about him. It wasn't just idle teasing on Bond's part, he knew that Q was likely spread out on his bed right now, naked and glistening with lube, tugging on his cock. What's more, seeing Q in a state of arousal in the team room had gotten Bond hard.

"Oh you bastard. Yes! You want me like this."

Was the agent sprawled somewhere right now in a similar state, wanking hard and calling out Q's name? Perhaps in his imagination he had Q pinned to the wall, or down on his knees drooling around Bond's thick cock as it pressed into his throat. 

Q's free fingers jammed into his mouth were a poor substitute for what he really wanted, but they did the job. He screamed as a second orgasm tore through him, streaking his stomach and chest with spurt after spurt of cum. 

He collapsed on the bed panting heavily, a light sheen of sweat making his skin seem to glow in the filtered light from the streetlights. Pearly strings glistened, paler even than his skin. His entire body felt weak and wobbly, as though he'd just completed the hardest workout of his life. 

He giggled shakily, reaching for a tissue and then his mobile. 

“Now that, Agent Bond, is how to fuck your Quartermaster.”


End file.
